


The Truce

by DistantStorm



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm
Summary: In the aftermath of the Child's actions, Greef Karga cannot help feeling uneasy. Perhaps the child is able to tell.Spoilers for Episode 7: The Reckoning
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 313





	The Truce

**Author's Note:**

> I expressed rather loudly to a friend that I would never be able to write for this fandom (specifically because of my lack of Star Wars knowledge), but I am a hypocrite and decided to give this a shot.
> 
> I am also a sucker for Mandadlorian and his smol green baby.

His arm heals beyond the extent to which it had been wounded. Scratched and scared and broken skin, bubbling with poison is made new. There are no seams, no evidence of conflict, of the life-threatening injury incurred just moments before.

Greef Karga looks at the child, the tiny creature huffing in labored puffs of air, winded by what it's done. Before he can comment, thanks on his tongue, a weathered hand plucks the child up from where it sits, wobbling with the last of its strength. It is handed to the Mandalorian without preamble.

A stoic helmet looks down, Greef’s remaining men stand back in silence. The faintest chirp, and a shaky hand is raised up in the direction of the faceless man. He pushes it back down and reaches for the blanket in the child’s carrier. The motion isn't meant to thwart the child's advances.

"I'm fine, kid," He says, almost too soft to be heard in the aftermath. "You did good." Another cheep of sound and then a sigh.

There is a tenderness there, Greef realizes. He is reminded of the conversation that gave the usually distanced warrior away. 

_ "Any idea what they're gonna do with it?" _

Mando wraps the child in the blanket in a practiced manor, tucking it into the crook of his arm, surrounding the majority of it with his beskar gauntlet in a protective stance. He has not looked away from the child’s face.

“He tried to do this before, I think,” Mando says, long after he believes Karga to have fallen asleep. The fire is low, and there is no sound from his men off to the side. Perhaps they rest, but more likely, they lie in wait. Morning will come soon. Greef feels compelled not to rest, mind racing. There is no telling now what his men will do now that they have seen what the asset, no, the _ child _ has done. “Heal me. Before the Jawas.”

“That is not surprising.” Wrinkled features nod. “You saved it. Perhaps it can sense good and evil.”

The shock trooper scoffs. “Clearly not, considering-”

“It is still an infant. And besides,” The old man continues, “_ That _was out of fear for his protector's safety.” He looks up to Mando, though Mando has since moved to sit close enough to the coals to keep the child warm. It must be sweltering beneath all that beskar. “Like the mudhorn.”

“At least healing is better than choking me to death,” The woman mutters. Greef swallows hard, willing himself to keep still. Choking? The child’s hands could barely fit around his wrist much less that woman’s neck. But… what it had done, to save his life… He knew he couldn’t count out the child having abilities beyond his comprehension. “What next?”

“I don’t know,” Mando says, never shying away from unpleasant or unknown truths. “But it’s up to me to keep him safe.”

They quiet, the faintest sound of the Mandalorian's companions settling down to rest taking over, before everything falls quieter still. He does not put it back into its carrier. After some time, how much, he isn't sure, the child comes to with fretful warbles. Where before he'd have found it irritating, Greef cannot help but feel a wary sense defensiveness in his gut, that coils and blooms uncomfortably.

The Mandalorian pulls the child up closer to his neck, and small claws reach up to tap the side of his helmet. "Rest," Mando intones, voice gone low and steady. "You're safe."

It latches onto him, tilting its head into the canvas suit between helmet and pauldron, one ear pressed against its source of comfort, and the other flopped outward, drooping from sheer size. Mando speaks more, but his words grow softer, more quiet as the sounds the baby make fade from distressed to soothed.

This child_ is _ but a babe, Greef realizes, watching a covered hand rub its back through its swaddling.

But the child's eyes meet his in the dark: calm, tranquil, and wide, like pools of water with fathomless bottoms, and it blinks. Once. Twice. The sound it makes is a question, but the Mandalorian shushes him.

When it makes the sound again, its single exposed ear goes up, unfurled in his direction. Its babbling isn't directed at the man holding it in his arms. It was directed at him.

Could the child sense his intentions? Was it capable of knowing what tomorrow would bring?

It chirps once more, softer this time. Concerned.

"I will protect you," The Mandalorian murmurs, again. A promise.

Those brown eyes blink back to Greef, but this time there is something else in them besides tranquil innocence and wonder. He found he understood it. _ This one is mine to protect _ , the child is saying, without words. Perhaps it is subconscious, for a baby could hardly reason such complexities. _ Will you harm us, too? _

He shakes his head, unseen in the dark. _No_, Greef thinks, fiercely. Willing it to understand. _I owe you my life. I will not harm you_.

It might be a trick of the low light reflecting off cool metal armor, or perhaps there is far more than meets the eye. Maybe it's both, but the child appears to dip its head in an answering nod, as though they've reached a truce.

Searching his conscience, Greef realizes they have.

Satisfied at whatever it sees in his gaze, it turns its head to press into the space beneath the chin of the Mandalorian's helmet. "I know, kid," The warrior agrees, gruff. "We'll be out of this whole thing soon."

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on tumblr?
> 
> foundlings-are-the-future.tumblr.com


End file.
